


two hearts

by rose_tinted_icicles



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, anxiety tw, brief thoughts of suicide nothing really bad, depression tw, very very mild self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-18 08:30:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13678029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_tinted_icicles/pseuds/rose_tinted_icicles
Summary: Dan's life has no direction and is filled with a darkness he can't escape. He seems to be spiralling endlessly downward and has lost all hope - until he bumps into an ocean-eyed stranger on the street.~Dan sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over. His hand was on his chest – he could feel the soft cotton of his black shirt and the heart beneath it, beating quietly. The slow pulse reminded him that he was alive. Because he was feeling anything but. It took every ounce of effort that he had, but he stood up. Looking around, he gradually started pulling things out of boxes, a single tear running down his cheek.~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> asdfghjkl this is my first fic and I can't tell if it's good or bad. But the idea of Phil 'saving' Dan fills me with gallons of emotion so I had to put it down in words. More chapters to come very soon, I'm in the process of editing them.
> 
> you can find me as @rose-tinted-icicles on Tumblr :)

The room was a mess. But it seemed okay. After all, it had just been moved into. The air had an excited, on-edge vibe to it that made the curtains tremble and rustled the papers lying on the floor. It was new, and it wanted to be lived in. The room wanted to know what was inside the boxes that lay stuffed in its cramped quarters, it wanted to know what colour bedsheets would lay on the bed. It waited for new beginnings, for new memories. It was excited. It was fresh. Except that it was not. Dan sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over. His hand was on his chest – he could feel the soft cotton of his black shirt and the heart beneath it, beating quietly. The slow pulse reminded him that he was alive. Because he was feeling anything but.

Dan had just moved out of his family house. He had done it because he wanted to escape. He loved his family - he didn’t love his head. He had wanted to escape his head. He felt he was attached to the house he grew up in, the house that had created him – and if he left it, he might have a chance of starting over. Dan had been successfully hiding his depression for years. He didn’t want to. He just felt like he had to. He thought his family didn’t deserve him, they were too good, too pure. He had had to leave. It was the only way he thought he could get a hold of his life. Because at home, all he had felt was nothing. Just nothing. He was empty, inert, and couldn’t think straight most of the time.

Unfortunately, the second he stepped foot in his new house, he realised what a bad idea it had all been. There was no way he could handle this – he was too weak. Tired and lifeless, all he wanted to do was curl up and forget. But he couldn’t go back – he knew he would just waste away if he did. His fingers clawed into his chest, eliciting pain. But the pain was good. He felt it. He felt something, at least. Dan knew very well that he needed help. But he thought that he was so far gone that there was no way anybody would be able to save him, so why bother trying? He didn’t have any friends to confide in either. A sigh escaped his slightly-parted, dry lips. “Nothing,” he said out loud. “I feel nothing.” He closed his eyes and nodded along to the soothing beat of his heart. “Someone help me. Please.” He clutched his chest like it was some sort of a lifeline – in many ways, it was. He did this often. His heartbeat reminded him that he was alive, that he was. His sad figure sat there for a long time, curled in a ball, surrounded by a sea of boxes marked in neat handwriting with black markers. His mum had written those for him. He had said thank you to her, and he had smiled. He had felt nothing. It took every ounce of effort that he had, but he stood up. Looking around, he gradually started pulling things out of boxes, a single tear running down his cheek.

The couch was dull and drab, but not uncomfortable. It was soft and sunk ever-so-slightly underneath your weight, creating a perfect space for you to nestle up in. It looked inviting. Dan sat on it staring up ahead at the blaring TV. Except that he wasn’t. He was lost, enveloped by an emptiness that consumed every bit of him. It understood him. It was him. Empty, lifeless, nothing. He, Daniel Howell, was nothing. The TV made noises that he didn’t register. Sunlight streamed through the windows that he didn’t see. Dan’s hand, a separate entity to his mind and body, crawled up to his chest of its own accord. A sharp pulse replied. Beating. He was alive, if nothing else. Dan let out a long, shaky breath. The animation on the screen flickered like a candle in front of his glazed eyes. He couldn’t really see it. He couldn’t really see anything, except how much of a waste he was. Barely there, Dan was just a wisp of a person, not far from blowing away with the wind. He brain didn’t process the things that used to be fun anymore. He never had fun anymore. For a long time, he sat there, just staring at the TV, till the sun set and the world was coated in darkness. He never got up to eat. He liked the hunger. It was a feeling. It was something. Dan could barely control his body anymore. He sat there till he ran out of power completely, and passed out. There was no one to tuck him into bed that night.

Pavement, pavement, shoe, shoe, pavement. Head turned downward, that was all Dan could see. His black shoes were stepping, one after another, walking to who knows where. He hadn’t asked them to. Where were they going? They were running away, weren’t they? Dan knew he was trying to run away. From his illness, from his life, from himself. The tiles continued onward forever. His head was empty, aimless. He wouldn’t have cared if the ground just caved in, or disappeared. Black shoes moving, moving, moving. Dan was being carried forward by his broken body, and he didn’t know where he was headed. The days had been dragging on and on. His mum called him incessantly. He replied listlessly. Yes, I’m fine. Yes, I’m eating. No, don’t come to meet me just yet. _I’m nobody, I’m nothing. Help me, please_. More shoes, more pavement. His gaze downwards, seeing nothing, hearing nothing – he was bound to bump into somebody. And he did. Years later, he would think back to this moment, eternally grateful that he hadn’t been looking where he was going.

“Oops.” A phone bumped into him. The phone was attached to two pale arms in a bright shirt. The shirt was attached to the most beautiful boy Dan had ever seen. The angel giggled.

“I didn’t see you there. Sorry.” He smiled.

Dan stared at him. He had black hair that fell over half his face in a very delicate, very soft way. Dan wanted to touch it. And his eyes – oh, those ocean eyes. Pretty, and the purest blue he has ever seen. They reminded him of a summer sky – a sky from his childhood – a memory he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Are… are you all right?” the blue boy asked.

“…What?” muttered Dan. “Are you okay?” He seemed concerned. That’s when Dan realised he’d been staring open-mouthed at a complete stranger for the past two minutes. Well done, Dan. Way to mess the first impression up.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” said Dan, sheepishly. “I think,” he added. The fact was that he wasn’t okay at all. Because he had felt something. He Dan, had actually felt something, spontaneously. It was a tiny spark in his chest that sharply brought into contrast his grey life. He had to chase this thing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The boy looked genuinely worried now.

Dan realised what a mess he must look. He barely took care of himself and had just stumbled out of his flat on a whim, without any destination in mind.

“I’m fine. I’m good,” Dan finally said. He tried a smile. His face muscles seemed sore – it took a lot of work to raise the corners of his mouth. The boy visibly relaxed.

“Hey. I’m Phil,” he said, holding out his hand. Dan stared at it for a while before he realised he was supposed to shake it.

“Oh…” Dan hastily grasped it and shook it extra-hard. _You clown_. Phil’s hand was so very soft that Dan didn’t really want to let it go. Only when Phil began to look at him oddly, Dan proceeded to drop the hand with an unparalleled speed.

“So- um, are you new here?” Phil asked, trying to converse.

“Yeah. Yes. I’m new. I just moved in, actually. You? I mean, do you live here?” Dan seemed to be getting the hang of this thing called speech.

Phil nodded. “Yep, right around the corner. I, um, like your shoes.”

“What?”

“Your shoes. I like your shoes.”

“Oh.”

Phil had actually complimented him. Dan looked down at his shoes.

“Oh,” he said again. “I, uh, like yours too.”

“Thanks!” Phil chuckled. The both of them proceeded to stare at their shoes for a while. Inwardly screaming, outwardly red as a beet, Dan wondered what was going to happen next.

Finally, Phil broke the silence with a, “You’re really into the colour black, aren’t you?” mentioning his entirely black t-shirt, jeans and shoes.

“Ah,” said Dan. “I like it. It reflects my soul.”

Phil covered his mouth and giggled an endearing, heart-warming giggle. Dan could have watched him for hours on end.

“I don’t usually wear darker colours,” said Phil. “Because, I’m really pale, and I feel like I would just fade into the background, you know. I feel like my clothes need to pop.”

“You already pop,” Dan blurted out.

“I’m sorry, what?”

 _asdfghjkl_. Dan seemed to have lost control of his tongue. “I mean- I mean,” he was desperately trying to salvage the situation. Failing, he gave up. “I don’t know what I mean.”

Phil laughed this time. It was a deep stomach laugh that gave Dan butterflies. He wanted to cry, but he also wanted to laugh along. Instead, he decided to continue staring at Phil’s eyes.

“It’s okay,” Phil said. “Listen, I really have to get going… so maybe I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Dan nodded, still staring. For the briefest of seconds, Phil looked right back into Dan’s eyes. Dan proceeded to choke. He spluttered out a ‘bye’ as he watched Phil smile and walk away. No, he couldn’t be going already. Dan needed him to come back. He needed him. All of a sudden, his eyes were brimming up. All that emptiness that had let go of him in front of Phil came rushing back, nearly knocking him down. Sobbing, he ran all the way back to his flat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan’s life has no direction and is filled with a darkness he can’t escape. He seems to be spiralling endlessly downward and has lost all hope - until he bumps into an ocean-eyed stranger on the street.
> 
> ~That day, if you had asked Dan how he was feeling, he would have told you he was almost happy. Yes, his mental illness still lurked at the back of his mind and blurred his vision over, but it was more like a shadow when he was with Phil. It wouldn’t let him go, but it didn’t hold him back either. And above all, he was feeling. He felt emotion. His chest tingled, his heart danced, his face flushed. He was almost beginning to feel real again. And at that moment, he decided that no matter what his demons told him, he could never let go of Phil. Ever. ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeeee chapter twooo enjoy <3

_Hey. I’m Phil._ The name floated in and out of his dreams that night. It blew along in the breeze softly – it was a breeze that was calling him home, Dan was sure of it. He barely knew him, but Phil was _home_. Those brilliant blue eyes flashed in front of him, waking him up with a start. He had been crying in his sleep. Sighing, he lay back down and stared at the ceiling for a long time. The tears began flowing freely. _What are you doing?_ He was dreaming about a stranger. A boy who probably didn’t even remember his name. A boy with blue eyes who had smiled at him. No, Phil was too good. He didn’t deserve someone like Dan. Dan wanted to scream out loud – he hated himself. He hated what he had begun to feel. He was too much of a monster to be allowed to feel. Dan cried his heart out till the first rays of the sun hit his face, the warmth caressing his skin. It reminded him of Phil; he shut the blinds.

 

Dan didn’t leave his flat for days after. Because he knew the chances of meeting Phil by accident were very few. And what was the point of going outside if it wasn’t to meet Phil? It wasn’t pleasant at home either. Every waking and sleeping second, that fairy-tale creature haunted him. Jet-black hair. Blue eyes. Comforting warmth. Dan imagined that warmth against his body and started to cry, for the millionth time. He barely seemed to be able to do anything but cry. He rarely had the energy even make his bed, or cook a proper meal. He knew, of course, that he shouldn’t be doing this alone. He knew very clearly that he needed help, medicines, and someone to take care of him. It was just that he didn’t want _somebody_ – he wanted Phil. _I don’t deserve him._ His brain convinced him that he didn’t deserve anything but emptiness. The emptiness that had become hyper-aware of itself since the encounter a week ago. Dan had never felt more alone than he did now.

 

 It was a bright day when he finally stepped out to buy some desperately needed groceries. The sun fell on his bare arms and warmed his mood slightly. The warmth, as usual, reminded him of Phil. Phil, Phil, Phil. Dan sighed heavily as he opened the door of a coffee shop, his heavy grocery bag in one hand. With his drink, he chose a seat right next to the window, just in case Phil happened to pass by. The sugary coffee reminded him of Phil once again. Another heavy sigh. He touched the soft blue table-cloth, he looked at his black shoes. Nothing but Phil. Heck, even the air-conditioner had Phillip written across it in tiny letters. Dan felt he must be going mad. He looked out the window – Phil. He was just turning to stare at his shoes again when he realised what had happened. He jerked back around, nearly spilling his coffee. Phil. It was actually Phil. Phil had actually, really, passed by his coffee shop, and he was now smiling cheerfully and waving. Red as a beet, Dan saw him open the door of the café and come in towards him.

“Hey!” he said brightly. “Fancy bumping into you again!”

Dan felt like he ought to say something to, but the words refused to take shape in his mouth. He was just staring, scarlet. This time, Phil looked right back at him, confidently, a half-smile playing on his lips. The eye-contact made Dan redder than ever. He felt he might explode. Eventually, he choked out a “h-hello.” And a smile. A proper, real, genuine smile.

“Well?” demanded Phil. “Can I sit?”

“Y-yes? I mean, yes, of course, you can.”

Sitting down right opposite, he motioned towards the grocery bag. “You went shopping?” he asked.

“I did, yeah. Perks of living alone, I guess?” The both giggled simultaneously.

At that moment, Dan felt such a sudden rush of affection for Phil, a leaping gush of emotion, that he couldn’t contain himself. “Can you give me your number?” He blurted out.

“What?”

Dan wanted to sink into the ground. The blood rushed back to his face and he felt himself visibly starting to curl up into a ball.

Phil surprised him by saying, “Yes, yes you can. I’d like yours too.”

From that moment onwards, Dan felt different. Shifted, lifted - free. They laughed together, they joked together. They talked about how Dan actually had curly hair and how Phil actually was a ginger. “I like gingers,” said Dan, smiling. He was really smiling now. He felt could get used to it.

“So,” said Phil. “Tell me more about what it was like back at your family house. You left pretty early, eh?”

“I guess I did,” said Dan. “I wanted a change, you know. I mean, don’t get me wrong. They’re all really nice and loving and all that.

“Mmhmm.”

“I just, well…” Dan wasn’t sure what he was going to say. It was as if his lips were moving on autopilot. “I-I’ve been suffering from depression. And I needed to get a hold of my life.” Dan would have never dreamed that he would open up to someone so new – but Phil felt so close to him, so comfortable, that it has just come spilling out.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Phil was saying. “Are you doing okay these days?”

“Well, it comes and goes. Sometimes I’m okay, sometimes I’m not.”

“How did your family let you go?”

“I… I didn’t tell them.”

“Oh.”

This was it. Phil was beginning to see the ‘real’ Dan, the shady boy who was in desperate need of help. Dan wasn’t sure if Phil would like him.

“Hey, but you should really tell them, you know,” Phil said. “They can help you. You really shouldn’t be alone.” Phil was catching on quick. Dan was so alone.

“I will tell them. Soon. I just needed some time to myself to sort my brain out, you know?” 

“I guess,” said Phil. “Still, think about getting help, please. You shouldn’t have to suffer.” There it was, that warmth again. That lovely, bubbling warmth that coated Dan with everything he had ever wanted.

Smiling again, he said, “I’m not suffering. Not right now.”

That day, if you had asked Dan how he was feeling, he would have told you he was almost happy.  Yes, his mental illness still lurked at the back of his mind and blurred his vision over, but it was more like a shadow when he was with Phil. It wouldn’t let him go, but it didn’t hold him back either. And above all, he was feeling. He felt emotion. His chest tingled, his heart danced, his face flushed. He was almost beginning to feel real again. And at that moment, he decided that no matter what his demons told him, he could never let go of Phil. Ever. Phil walked Dan home that day. He even carried the bag of groceries for him. Dan was walking awkwardly, as he usually did, with hands in his pockets, looking down at both their shoes. Phil was looking at him. They had formed a bubble, a finite universe in which they could co-exist peacefully, without the judgement and criticism of the outside world. They were just getting to know each other, but they clicked. And they knew it. They were excited.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~They were sitting on a park bench with their legs up, backs resting against each other. It was a quiet sort of day in a quiet sort of week and everything seemed to be peacefully lulling itself to sleep. Pleasant weather; green trees filled with birds that were chirping quietly. Dan and Phil had books in hand, except that, of course, Dan wasn’t really reading. He merely stared at the fluttering pages, like he was used to doing, but this time, he was content. He listened to the sound of the rustling paper and felt the warmth of Phil’s body pressed against his. They had just spent a lovely little afternoon together and Dan knew he would remember it for the rest of his life. He sat there, loving the touch, loving the connection, loving everything about this moment. Then... he realised it. I love Phil, don’t I? Yes, he did. Very much.~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter three whoop
> 
> this is the second-last one, methinks. it's almost done!

Blue, ocean eyes. A laugh that sparkled like a thousand sunrises. All his dreams included Phil of late. And every morning he woke up with the feeling that Phil did not deserve him. He was too good. Dan was a wretched creature who just didn’t care – he didn’t deserve the butterflies and he didn’t deserve the blushes. However, Dan knew where this voice was coming from. It was coming from a sad, broken place. And some hopeful part of him knew that he must ignore it. That voice was going to be there no matter what, and it was up to him tell that frightened creature it was going to be okay. Dan sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. Getting out of bed was still an effort, but now that he had Phil to look forward to, things seemed a little lighter. His phone buzzed. It was a text, from Phil. Early in the morning. All of a sudden, Dan giggled and hugged himself. His face lit up, like a Christmas tree surrounded by love, and he felt ridiculous – he loved it. The whole morning was spent in quiet conversation, a little haven filled with soft, gentle smiles. Dan was... happy? The blankets around him, Phil with him (sort of) and his hand on his chest. But this time, it wasn’t because he was afraid he had stopped existing – it was because he knew he was. The quick pulse reminded him that no, he wasn’t alone anymore.

They were sitting on a park bench with their legs up, backs resting against each other. It was a quiet sort of day in a quiet sort of week and everything seemed to be peacefully lulling itself to sleep. Pleasant weather; green trees filled with birds that were chirping quietly. Dan and Phil had books in hand, except that, of course, Dan wasn’t really reading. He merely stared at the fluttering pages, like he was used to doing, but this time, he was content. He listened to the sound of the rustling paper and felt the warmth of Phil’s body pressed against his. They had just spent a lovely little afternoon together and Dan knew he would remember it for the rest of his life. He sat there, loving the touch, loving the connection, loving everything about this moment. Then... he realised it. I love Phil, don’t I? Yes, he did. Very much.

Putting his book down, he turned, swinging his legs to the ground. Because they had been propping each other up, Phil suddenly fell backwards onto Dan’s lap because of the change in position.

“Woah!” he laughed. “Let me know when you’re planning to move next time.”

Dan laughed too. “Sorry,” he said.

It was beautiful. Phil staring up at Dan, the two of them giggling in rhythm. Slowly, the laughter petered out, and they were left with just the gaze. It burned right into Dan, but in a good way. The only thing Dan was conscious of at that moment were those blue, oceanic eyes. Looking down at Phil, who had no intentions of budging from where he was, Dan realised what a beautiful creature he was. And all of a sudden, when he felt like life couldn’t get any better, something snapped in his brain. Some small bit of it said, “No thanks. I can’t do this.” He was overcome by an immense wave of sadness – and of fear – and he had to break away from Phil’s eyes. He turned his head away, eyes tearing up. He wanted to run.

“What’s the matter?” asked Phil, sitting up.

Dan couldn’t reply. It was too much; he was too much. His heart was throbbing with emotion and he didn’t know what to do.

“Hey,” said Phil, putting his arm on Dan’s shoulder, who was still facing the other direction. “Come here. You know you can talk to me.”

Dan wanted to. He desperately wanted to. But his body refused to move, his mouth refused to open.

“No?” asked Phil. “Okay, I’ll come then.” He slid over the bench to Dan and pressed his body against his.

Dan closed his eyes. His body had made itself a prison, and he needed to escape. It was when Phil put his arm around Dan’s waist and pulled him closer, that the spell finally broke. He collapsed into Phil’s embrace, tears flooding Phil’s t-shirt. He held him close, without saying a word. Dan sobbed and sobbed. Passers-by gave them strange, concerned glances, but neither of the two cared. It was getting dark now, and all that mattered was each other.

It was a long while before Dan could choke out a, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” said Phil. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“I- I just sort of froze, and got really overwhelmed with this horrid feeling, I – I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay. Hey- look at me.” Ocean eyes. “It’s okay, alright?”

Dan nodded. He nodded again. “Thank… Thank you. Thank you very much. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Phil pulled him in close again. They sat there for a long time. Holding one another quietly, heads touching. Dan was beginning to feel all right again. He was beginning to feel at home again. For the first time since his depression had started, someone had helped him. He hadn’t even needed to ask. He was held, he was comforted. Phil knew him. Phil was home. Suddenly, he realised he missed his first home. His house, his parents, his dog. He had left them all behind. But he suppressed the thought. Right now, all that mattered was Phil – and only Phil. He needed to move on from his old life, from his childhood. A tiny spark of anger lit up in his chest - anger at himself for wanting to go back - but he hushed it. He was home. He was with Phil, and he was safe. He looked up at his blue-eyed boy.

“Hmm?” said Phil.

“Nothing.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I understand.” Phil caressed Dan’s cheek with one hand, while his other one held him strongly. Dan felt so warm, so protected. He smiled. “I’ve told you about my occasional anxiety, right?” Asked Phil.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well, you know what I do when the world feels like it’s too much to handle, and I don’t feel real anymore?”

“What?”

“See-,” said Phil, using his free hand to demonstrate. He brought it up to his torso. “I put my hand on my chest, and I feel my heartbeat. That way, I know that I’m alive. And I can re-start from there. Understand?”

Dan was utterly, completely blank. He had no idea how to react. Like usual, he just stared at Phil. It would be a while before his brain managed to fully process what it had heard.

“What?” asked Phil. “Are you okay? Dan?”

“I-I-um…” Dan didn’t know what to say. Phil- Phil understood him better than anybody, but this… Slowly, a hand of horror began to creep up his spine. It was plain, abject horror. A horror that he would have to leave Phil. For the moment, though, he managed to ignore it.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said. “It’s just that- I do the exact same thing. Whenever I go into a sudden depressive episode, I put my hand over my chest and feel my heartbeat to remind myself that I still exist.”

Phil chuckled. “Well,” he said. “I guess we’re just made for each other, eh?”

Dan smiled. But he didn’t feel it, not really. He only felt the horror. Phil was too good for him. They were too perfect. Being with Phil would make Dan happy, and Dan did not deserve that. He had to leave.

“Phil,” he said, quietly. “I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

“Oh.” Phil looked a mixture of surprised and disappointed. “Are you sure? We seem to have a thing going here.”

“I’m really sorry, Phil, but I feel like I need to be alone right now. It’s really nothing you’ve done. Please tell me you understand?”

“Um, okay. Sure. Do you want me to drop you home?”

Dan smiled. He really smiled this time. It was sad. Oh Phil, sweet, helpful, wonderful, loving Phil. He loved him. He wouldn’t ever see him again. “Thanks, but I’ll be alright. Thank you, though.”

So saying, he slowly unwound himself from Phil’s embrace and stood up. “Okay then,” he said. “Bye.” He wanted to make Phil understand that this really was goodbye. He wanted to tell him everything, he wanted him to feel everything he couldn't say. Just as his eyes began tearing up again, he quickly turned to go. He barely heard Phil say bye. _I’m leaving him. I’m leaving him. I can’t leave him._ He walked home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Dan ran out the door. He couldn’t comprehend anything but the need for Phil. He was a mess, but nothing was making sense to him anymore, nothing except Phil. He ran, he ran and he ran. He didn’t look right or left, up or down, he could barely see. He just ran. His black shoes took him to the only place that came into his mind. The park. The park where he had left Phil. He didn’t know how long it took him to get there. He had lost all sense of time, and space. But he ran. He didn’t think of anyone or anything else. He bumped into a few people along the way, but he didn’t notice them. He didn’t even wonder if Phil would be there – all he cared about was getting to that bench in the park where they had been sitting. Where Phil had fallen back into his lap. Where he had realised he loved Phil. He ran through the park, he ran and ran and ran, completely lost to reality. And when he reached the bench, he wasn’t even surprised to see Phil actually sitting there, all on his own, staring at the grass.~

He continued dreaming about Phil. He was usually stuck and crying out for help, and Phil, the only one who could save him, was just out of reach. Dan often died in these dreams. He worried that his living thoughts would take that road too. It had been two weeks since he’d cut Phil off. He’d blocked him on everything, never returned his calls, and when he occasionally spotted him in the street, he hurried away, his face downward. Every day was a drag. Every minute felt like an eternity. This suffering was much worse than the everyday depression he was used to. Now, the only thing he had to look forward to was his own death. Sometimes he wondered if he shouldn’t quicken it. He shushed those thoughts quickly. Dan has never been suicidal and was determined never to be. Yet, with no Phil, what was there to live for? He cried every morning. He cried every night. It was difficult and rocky, this path he had chosen. Occasionally, that hopeful voice in is head would ask him why he couldn’t go back to Phil – why he couldn’t accept that he had been healing, that Phil was good for him. But Dan wouldn’t agree. Phil had been too pure for him, Dan would have ruined him, destroyed him, dragged him down to hell with him. He couldn’t see any point to the whole thing. He couldn’t see any point to himself. He started crying again. Just as he was wiping the salt off his cheek, his phone buzzed. It was Phil. Phil was calling him. He hadn’t stopped calling him for two whole weeks. Again, that voice said, _he cares about you. He can help you._ Dan stared at the phone. It reminded him of how he used to stare at Phil. An image of Phil’s ocean eyes flashed before him and a wave of sadness overcame him as he sobbed his heart out. The phone stopped ringing.

It had been a month. Dan has no idea how he had managed to make it this far. Every day, every hour, every minute seemed like a white, empty universe that stretched on and on for eternity. And the only thing that occupied it was Blue-Eyed Phil. Dan couldn’t see past him, he couldn’t see anything but him. Dan wanted him, terribly. Dan needed him. But he would not relent. He was convinced this was the way things had to be. Dan couldn’t ruin Phil. Dan couldn’t bear to take away that kindness from the world. Someone more deserving would get Phil. He’d almost settled into this rhythm, this constant cycle of self-hate, darkness, blankness, and tears. Dan barely ate, he barely slept. He mostly just lay down, staring at the ceiling. Feeling empty and devoid of any sort of life. Tears flowed from his eyes, yes, but he hardly felt them anymore. They were almost an automatic response to the thought of Phil. That was Dan Howell’s life. And he hated it. But he was close to accepting it.

And then it happened.

 

He stood, slouched, next to his closet. It had been a tremendous effort to muster up the energy to even decide to sort it out, but he had managed it. He had managed to pull himself out of bed, shower, have cereal, and he had dragged himself to his closet. And he was pretty damn pleased with himself. Filled with a tiny spoonful of endorphins that seemed so foreign to his body, he pulled open the doors and a pile of stuff fell down at his feet. Sighing, he sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and began sorting it out. T-shirt, large, idiotic, potato sack sweater, a tiny bottle of black nail polish. Silly little things. He smirked at himself. He was silly. His possessions were silly. Tiny, insignificant. Irrelevant. Who did he think he was? _Nobody._ His hand brushed against something and he felt a sharp pain. It was the edge of something like card-paper. Reaching into his silly pile, he pulled out the source of the pain. His heart sank. It was a Polaroid of him and Phil. They were laughing, making a really silly face. Dan could visibly see at least 4 chins on his neck. Phil… well, Phil was beautiful as usual, except just more so because he was laughing out loud. He was happy. The tears came quickly. They flooded him. Phil. Oh Phil, oh Phil, oh Phil. How much Dan missed him, he would never be able to express in words. His head throbbed and his body rocked back and forth in agony over the hurt that he was feeling. _I can’t do this. I need help._ He held his head and screamed out loud. No, he wasn’t doing this, this wasn’t happening. He couldn’t be with Phil, and he knew that. And then he was blank. He was empty. He was back to being nothing. Dan, the nobody. Dan, the monster. And this time, it was worse than it had ever been. His vision was blurring over, his hearing seemed to be ringing with silence, all life seemed to be draining out of his body. He was just falling away, into nothingness.

Almost as a reflex, his hand crawled to his chest. He pressed it into his skin, clutching at the (black) cloth. He waited. And waited. Nothing. He waited longer, a tiny feeling of panic rising in his chest. _I can’t feel my heartbeat._ And then he imploded. There was only one emotion coursing through his being and that was fear. He was scared, so, utterly, completely scared. He wasn’t alive, he wasn’t breathing, he’d stopped existing. He started breathing harder and his head was so blurred over that he couldn’t think straight. He was losing his mind and in that moment there was only one thing in Dan’s head – Phil. He needed Phil, he needed him right now, at this moment. He knew he wouldn’t last very long without Phil. Gasping for breath, and in a state of complete panic, Dan ran out the door. He couldn’t comprehend anything but the need for Phil. He was a mess, but nothing was making sense to him anymore, nothing except Phil. He ran, he ran and he ran. He didn’t look right or left, up or down, he could barely see. He just ran. His black shoes took him to the only place that came into his mind. The park. The park where he had left Phil. He didn’t know how long it took him to get there. He had lost all sense of time, and space. But he ran. He didn’t think of anyone or anything else. He bumped into a few people along the way, but he didn’t notice them. He didn’t even wonder if Phil would be there – all he cared about was getting to that bench in the park where they had been sitting. Where Phil had fallen back into his lap. Where he had realised he loved Phil. He ran through the park, he ran and ran and ran, completely lost to reality. And when he reached the bench, he wasn’t even surprised to see Phil actually sitting there, all on his own, staring at the grass. He seemed to be so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the desperate sight that had come running up to him. _Phil, Phil, Phil._ He couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t say anything. Luckily, Phil chose to turn his head around. He saw Dan and started visibly.

“D-Dan?” an immediate expression of concern took over his face. “Are you okay?” He asked as he got up and hurried over. Sobbing wildly now, Dan collapsed to the ground. Phil sat down next to him and hugged him tightly. The warmth seemed to bring Dan back to his senses again.

“I-I- had sort of a break-down.” He stuttered through his sobs. “I put my hand on my chest, like I always do-,” Phil hugged him tighter. “I couldn’t feel anything, Phil. _I couldn’t feel anything._ ” He shuddered and shrank into Phil a little bit more.

“Oh, Dan.” Phil kissed him on the forehead. “Look.” He lifted Dan’s left hand with his own left and put it over Dan’s chest. “Can you feel it?”

“ _I can’t, Phil, I can’t.”_

“Okay. Breathe. Try this, then.” Phil took Dan’s right hand and put it over his own chest. Warmth. Cloth and warmth. Now they were simultaneously holding hands and feeling each other’s hearts.

“I-I can feel yours, Phil,” Dan said. His tears had reduced. The life seemed to be coming back into him. “It feels nice.”

“Mmh. Can you feel your own?”

“N-no.”

“Feel. Really feel.”

Dan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His right hand was warm, and it felt the gentle pulsing of Phil’s heartbeat. It was the most beautiful thing. Phil kissed him gently on his cheek. And then, his left hand slowly began to feel a faded, forgotten pulse that grew stronger by the second. A huge wave of relief gushed over Dan and he exhaled, deeply and fully. The he laughed a little. “I can feel it Phil. I’m alive. I’m still here.”

“Of course you are, Dan. You’ll always be there. Remember that. You had just got a little scared, that's all. Silly old bear.” He kissed him again. This time his lips lingered longer on Dan's damp hair and suddenly, the world seemed to come to light again. Things were beginning to make sense again.

“Oh, Phil. I-I don’t even know what to say.”

“Hush, you don’t need to say anything.”

“No. No, I do.” Dan turned to look at the blue eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Phil smiled. “I’m sorry too. I should have come to check up on you. I knew you weren’t well.”

“I should have listened to you, Phil. I should have got help.”

“Well, it’s never too late for that, is it?” They hugged again.

“Phil?” Dan whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” The leaves rustled in the breeze.

“I love you too.”

 

They sat on the bench, hand in hand, and looked at each other.

“Well?” asked Phil. “You know what to do now, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Can I have your phone?” Dan took it, and dialled a number that he hadn’t thought of in ages, but remembered very well. He put the phone to his ear. He looked at Phil while it was ringing, a little bit of anxiety building up in him. His blue-eyed boy smiled reassuringly.

“Hello?” came the voice from the other side.

“Hi, mum.”

“Dan!”

“I need to tell you something, mum. Something I should have told you long ago.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASSDFGHHNN IT'S DONE YAY I HOPE YOU LIKE MY FIRST FIC ... i feel cringey kill me


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